there's more to life than this

Yesterday: went to chi-chi spa with gift certificate in hand and had a massage. Post-massage, I relaxed in a terry robe and almost-too-small spa slippers sipping camomile and munching fruit. Basically I let my post-massage mushiness seep in for a while before I braved the wilds of the streets of LA. After some late lunch I met up with folks from work and hung out for a while (ok, we went music shopping at Amoeba, the biggest music store I've ever been to) before we ventured on to an experimental music film screening. I liked most of what I saw and heard -- some of the segments were longer than they needed to be, but I appreciated the care with which the soundtracks were documented, particularly on a lengthy but entertaining piece featuring Voice Crack. A lot of the sound devices they use respond to light -- my favorite segment was at the end of the film, where light-sensitive-sound-generating-receptors-of-some-sort were placed on a wall, with a film screened over the top of them. Watching and listening to the sounds of a drive-by pan of sunflowers gave me that warm fuzzy feeling. I know, I am easily amused. Actually, the venue that held the screening will also give all of you that warm fuzzy feeling, as they exist specifically to provide film-making resources to kids under 18, gratis. After the film fest and polling for reactions we ventured on to food-eating (Burrito King) and a stupidly funny and antagonistic mostly-music discussion. I tended to stay out of it for the most part, sleepy and still feeling the good vibrations of muscle kneading past. By the time my head hit the pillow it was 2:30ish (the bad thing about living so far out of LA).

Although I had a good time yesterday, finding out just now that ITMB was having a terrible time makes recounting the day's events seem silly, trivial. I consciously stayed away from home/computer yesterday to avoid the compulsive emailing and surfing I am prone to do, even on days off -- and having checked in this morning I couldn't help but feel like my timing was off. I am glad to know that A. was there.

This diary thing has and will probably ever be a strange thing, as I am pretty much always aware of the conscious restrictions I place on my entries--and yet I am allowed access to pretty personal insight/information from other diarists I know. I just hope that we can make time to connect, off-line.